Letter Poem by KATOCH P C K PREM

LETTER

It is an open letter
to convey an aesthetic message
forming a weak confession,
without period.

It confuses but interprets,
but the message is lost in words
and men involved carried no identities,
veiled probing brought out morbid hints,
that suggested another dark orientation.

Then dirty antimacassar
spread on emancipated person
running about in jungles of intellects
engaged beyond time in sorting out
differences that re-enact a scenario,
waiting for an eye for defining
limits, patterns and moulds.

No one arrives to console
in such corrosive circumstances to say,
that smoothness awaits a patient
suffering an inevitable mental agony,
assembled in tit-bits bereft of connection,
calling for a relation on pebbles
to write a detailed criticism
deriding, berating with no basis.

Smelling distanced flower is a routine
but brings no cover of consolation
and this continues an unabated,
struggle to convey the spirit that
lingers on.

Consciously desiring for a communication
where cooking and feasting bring joy
of intimacy, depth and degree,
so that a letter becomes a speaking individual
with limits to indicate not a word
but an expression of meaning,
because speech fails that gives
birth to a letter searching for an identity.

(Among The Shadows 1989)